


Seventh

by likebunnies



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Apocalypse, End of Days, Eventual Smut, F/M, It's all AU now baby, Kind of meanders much like the days and nights since March, No Plot/Plotless, Post-Season/Series 03 AU, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:20:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26503549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likebunnies/pseuds/likebunnies
Summary: Seven years together and the adventure isn't over... but now the end of time truly is here and it's worse than anything before. Can Abbie Mills and Ichabod Crane stop it again?
Relationships: Ichabod Crane/Abbie Mills
Comments: 7
Kudos: 34





	Seventh

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this back in the early COVID-19 days. I thought I'd have time to explore the idea of the world falling apart but instead I have mostly explored the idea of snacking non-stop and working long hours remotely. There's not going to be a lot of plot to this. That would take away from my snacking time.
> 
> It's been seven years since this show premiered. This show gave that network something huge to screw up. Besides all the other things. So here I am. Still trying to fix things. I do not know why anymore. 
> 
> Enjoy.

“I can't believe we're here, at the end of all things. It feels like just yesterday that I saw you for the first time,” he said, using his finger to make the shape of a star on the fogged-up window. He traced it several times and then moved on and made a smaller field of stars around it. 

“It doesn't feel like yesterday. It feels like seven years. Seven long years.”

“Some of them were good though?” he asked, still focused on the window. He added a few hearts. A couple of squiggles. 

“Some,” she said with a shrug and a pout, playing with him. He finally gave up his window art, smearing his palm across it before he gave her a slight smile. She laughed. “We've faced a lot. We'll get through this. I don't know how but I do know there's always a way.”

He was being particularly maudlin today. They both had their turns at it, wondering how they had gotten to this point again, wondering how they were going to get out of it this time. He hardly ever used the words 'the end' lately. This was all bad but… yeah, this time it was bad. Really bad.

Seven years of fighting this battle against evil. Seven years of demons and monsters and always trying to hold the door shut on the apocalypse. Not even death had been enough to stop them but that was all before.

Abbie shook her head. Death wasn't all that bad. She never told him this but being pulled out of the afterlife and back here was painful at first. She was justifiably angry that this was another choice made for her, another part of this process over which she had no control. Slowly, being here again, eventually being with him, made the pain fade but it took time. Crane had been the one to initiate her return but she didn't come back empty handed, having carried his soul back with her. In a small gilded box. 

Their fight wasn't over, she was told rather bluntly. She had to go back. He needed her more than ever. There was no longer another Witness and he couldn’t do it without her. Specifically, her. 

Now he sounded like he was giving up. They were spending another night in the back of one of Jenny's old Ford SUVs. It wasn't comfortable but it was now home more often than not. Jenny had it armed to the teeth before they set out on the road and that was a good thing, too. They never knew what they were getting into as they wandered the empty countryside. Gas was getting harder to find and Abbie didn't know how much longer they'd be able to scrape up enough to keep going another day. She didn't know how many more bands of scared people she could face as they tried to find a way to turn back the end.

Crane looked exhausted. He tilted a red box of raisins in her direction and she shook her head. He was good at scavenging for food. She just wished once he'd find a juicy cheeseburger and hot, greasy fries instead of the food no one had wanted in the first place.

“They're good,” he said, shaking the box. They didn’t rattle in the box but were stuck together in a clump at the bottom. He would have to dig some out with his long fingers. 

“Don't tell me you wouldn't rather be eating a big bag of chips or some gummy bears right now?” Abbie asked, pushing the box away. “I wish someone could explain to me why the junk food always disappears in these apocalyptic situations but you can always find those damn raisins?”

“Raisins aren't the best comfort food, are they?” he asked. He closed the box and tossed it aside. They didn't have much room and he squirmed about a bit before pulling out a bottle of rum from their supplies. “This is much better comfort food. Oh, what I wouldn't do for a single canister of Pringles. That popping sound when it opens. A perfect pile of carbs and starch all in the same perfect shape.”

“Twizzlers. I'd like some Twizzlers,” Abbie said when he was done waxing poetic about Pringles. Instead she took the bottle he offered her and took a swig. “Mmm. Much better than raisins.”

“But so much harder to find,” Crane said as she returned the bottle back to him. 

“I wouldn’t mind a hot bath, either. Or my mattress. Remember my mattress?” she asked. 

“Oh, yes, I remember your mattress well, Lieutenant. It was nice. I could sleep without being curled up in a ball. It was so comfortable. Not too firm. Not too soft. Just right,” Crane said before drinking more rum and staring off into some sweet memory. “It’s odd, what one discovers they miss the most. Pringles. Clean sheets. Room to stretch.”

“The bathtub and hot running water,” Abbie said. She touched her hair and sighed a heavily. “Getting my hair done.”

“I rather like your hair as it is right now and I had to learn a new skill,” he said, looking at the twists that were framing her face. They had sat at an old picnic table in a long-abandoned park, him on the table-top and her between his knees on the bench, as he did his best with her hair. She could have done it herself but his offer to help was so sincere that she just gave in. Next they would work on braids. It would be a good skill for him to have if they ever… someday. Maybe. Probably not. She wouldn’t want to bring another human being into this world. She stopped herself from even thinking about it. 

He raked his fingers through his own hair. It was long once again and she liked the look on him. He occasionally tied it back, like when they had first met, and she liked that even more. 

But then hair wasn’t really that important when everyone was dead or dying. Hair. Nails. A soft bed. It all seemed like crazy luxuries from a time long gone by and not just several months ago. 

He yawned and she followed suit. They hadn’t done much all day besides drive and drive some more yet it was all exhausting. Not that their lives before hadn’t been exhausting but this was different. Less physical and more mental. They were headed to a safe house Jenny had set up years ago, a place where they could get away from driving for endless miles and take a moment to consider what they should do next. Abbie was certain it was going to be as comfortable as the last of Jenny’s places they had stayed at. If one defined comfortable as sleeping bags on a dirt floor and some MREs hidden in a secret compartment in the ceiling. 

At least Jenny had thought ahead and hid a lot of rum and whiskey in that compartment, too. 

“Do you think we’ll get there by the end of the day tomorrow?” she asked. She pushed the blankets around and fluffed up what passed as a pillow before lying down. He squirmed around a bit and joined her, pulling a blanket over them after he got his long legs situated. 

“I hope so,” he said, wrapping her in his arms and pulling her close. 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Today was Abbie’s turn to feel maudlin. It was too be expected. One day the world was going on as normal – or what was normal to them – and then the next, an undetermined percentage of the population just vanished in a puff of smoke. Not like good time gospel hour Rapture vanished. There were none of the things Crane had researched when exploring end of the world scenarios. No flying up to God or Jesus and living that good life. Abbie saw it with her own two eyes at the supermarket checkout line. She heard it, too. The screaming in pain. The searing heat. The ash that filled her nose and throat and made it hard to see. But yet she saw enough. 

And then they were gone. 

She raced home, on foot because there was no way to get through the traffic, praying every second of the way that Crane would still be there when she arrived. When she got to their house, he didn’t answer her when she called his name. Sure he was gone in a puff of fire and smoke along with the others, she remembered throwing up in the kitchen sink before the uncontrollable sobbing began. 

Then she did find him. 

He was asleep in the summer sun on one of their new patio chairs in the backyard. A book was open across his chest, his earbuds in as he listened to whatever podcast it was he had taken up listening to that week. Just asleep. Not gone. She nearly passed out on top of him. 

Crane had sensed there was someone there and slowly opened his eyes, blinking at her and looking puzzled. That is when she did fall on top of him, the book pushed aside as she clung to him, trying to explain everything she had just witnessed. He held her tight for a long time before they went into action mode. They had to find out if Jenny was all right. They had to figure out what in the hell was happening. 

Jenny and Joe came racing into the backyard minutes later. Joe had thought he’d be called out to assist people but the thing was… the people were just gone. Gone. 

Crane pulled the SUV over to the side of the road, shaking Abbie from her reverie. He tapped the GPS before pulling out an old paper map. 

“Problems?” she asked, looking at the GPS to see what it might be doing this time. 

“I doubt we drove to… what does it say?” he asked. Abbie looked again, shook it a little, and looked once more. 

“Narbonne. France.” 

“I do not recall making an ocean crossing lately. I would have noticed,” Crane said, his finger moving over the map. Abbie turned off the GPS and turned it back on. 

“Hey, we’re no longer in Narbonne!” she said after it came back to life. “We’re somewhere outside of São Paulo.”

Crane scoffed, folded the map over and continued looking. “We are actually almost at our destination,” he said, poking his index finger at the map. 

“Oh, thank God. I’m tired of driving.”

“You are currently the passenger,” he said, folding the map up so it was just on the part they would need and handing it to her. “And my navigator.”

“We can trade places. Maybe I’m just tired of your driving,” she said, looking at the map and then at him. 

“My driving is just fine,” he said right before he hit the gas and tore down the empty road. 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

They stood in front of the latest safe house, their mouths hanging open. Abbie had lots of questions for her sister. Lots of questions. 

It was huge. Like McMansion huge. Abbie couldn’t see that it had power flowing to it but at least she was certain there would be enough space to spread out. Stretch their legs. Hopefully sleep on a surface that was not the back of an SUV. 

“What the hell, Jenny,” Abbie said out loud to no one. 

“Thank you, Jenny,” Crane said, walking toward the enormous double front door. Abbie followed behind him, getting her lock picking kit out and ready. They were inside in just a minute and walking around, trying to figure out the story behind this place. 

“There’s a generator in the garage and plenty of diesel to go with it. We’ll have to drag it outside before turning it on and hope no one hears it,” Abbie said. Crane was coming down the stairs, a note in his hand. 

“I found a missive from Miss Jenny tucked away in the vanity,” Crane said, handing it over to Abbie. “She is rather vague but I believe our stockpile of food is somewhere in the basement. Would you like for me to search for it?”

“Hm… sure,” Abbie answered, reading more of the note while walking to the kitchen. He was gone and back up with two bottles of Scotch and several cans of soup before she could completely comprehend what her sister was trying to tell her. 

“Do you understand all of it?” he asked, setting everything on the counter. He found two glasses in the cabinet and tried the water in order to rinse them before pouring each of them a drink. “I found the shut off valves easily enough. It won’t be hot until the generator is going but at least we can clean up a bit.”

“We should be safe here for a few days. Jenny and Joe weren’t here that long ago but she doesn’t really say where they went next. There weren’t many neighbors to begin with but I should work on putting up a protective ward as soon as I have the energy to do so,” Abbie said, sighing. She was better at certain forms of witchcraft than others. Even with what she had learned over the last few years, her wards sometimes went awry. At least Jenny always left them enough weapons and ammunition to take on a small army. 

She just hoped they didn’t have to. She would like a few days to just pretend life was going to be okay. 

Crane found a spoon, popped open a can of soup and was eating it cold. Abbie was going to complain but remembered he had far worse in his life than a cold can of Chunky steak and potato soup. She didn’t want to hear about hardtack and salt-cured meat or winters at war. 

“We can get the generator outside and then pull the SUV into the garage so no one can see it. We are so far off the main road someone would have to purposefully come up that drive, though. Let’s hope the main gate is a deterrent,” Crane said, offering her a spoonful of soup. She turned it down and sipped the Scotch instead. 

“My wards should help,” she said. Crane raised an eyebrow. “You hold the book. I say the spell. Works every time.”

She knew that he was thinking of that time somewhere in Pennsylvania when it did not work and she really wished he would forget that. They managed to fend off a horde of whatever the hell those things were and were still very much alive and well. Hopefully, there was more food than two cans of soup or they wouldn’t remain that way for long. 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

To Be Continued…


End file.
